


hey, hey, h'lo

by orphan_account



Series: fascinus!verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Aromantic Dean, Blow Jobs, Drinking, Emotions, Fleshlights, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Rimming, Team Everyone Switches, Threesome - M/M/M, Veterinarian Castiel, dick piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:59:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The bed seemed so big anymore, with only two of them in it. It didn’t dip and sway with another person’s weight settling to watch or join. But they had kind of intruded on Dean last night, and Sam didn’t want to push his luck. Dean had been an extra prickly cactus with some big important new client that Sandover was trying to woo and all the overtime that brought with it.





	

Castiel sighed and sank further against the plush mattress top, body curling lazily, splayed and loose beneath Sam. He was thick-muscled and strong, forearms and face browned by sun, chest and legs a shade lighter but still that rich olive-toned, and his ass was the palest stretch but it wasn’t white. Not like Dean’s lily behind. Sam wondered about where his family came from sometimes. Not right now, though. Right now, he stroked a broad palm down the inside of a thick thigh and tickled at the little Road Runner that sat colorful next to Cas’ balls. Right now he wondered how Cas could still get it up after last night. 

He looked scruffier, somehow, sprawled against this high thread count crisp white sheets on Dean’s bed. They were rumpled and decidedly dirtier this morning, and Sam would make sure to change them before Dean got that irritated crease in his forehead because Sam had been over enough times and knew where the clean linens were. But he and Cas could make them just a little dirtier, a little sweatier.

“Sam, you’re so beautiful.”

Shifting his weight down and settling on his forearms to pepper kisses across the dark, soft hairs of Cas’ thighs, Sam blinked up at him and hummed. Cas hand came down to push the hair back from his forehead, thumb stroking along his temple, and Sam thrilled at the gentle, intimate way that Cas touched him.

“Let me see your eyes. Look at me.”

Mouth curving into a smile, Sam was pretty sure his dimples were popping as he closed a hand around Cas’ cock and squeezed, looked up at him and kissed the head of his cock. Cas had propped himself up on an elbow, fingers shifting through Sam’s hair, intense blue eyes watching and eager but waiting. 

The bed seemed so big anymore, with only two of them in it. It didn’t dip and sway with another person’s weight settling to watch or join. But they had kind of intruded on Dean last night, and Sam didn’t want to push his luck. Dean had been an extra prickly cactus with some big important new client that Sandover was trying to woo and all the overtime that brought with it. 

Well, he could afford his fancy coffee to stay up all night working after he’d left Cas and Sam on his fancy sheets in his fancy condo because he wouldn’t go out with them but he couldn’t turn them away if they showed up on his doorstep. 

“Hey, be present with me, Sam.”

Cas’ voice was rough in the morning, thick and low and slow to form words. Sam leaned into the cup of his palm and kissed his wrist before going down on him. Lips stretched around the hot length of his cock and sinking lower, Sam was definitely present. Sam was not wallowing like a love-struck teenager spurned by a lover. He had two lovers, and there was usually at least one pair of arms to turn to, one set of hands to hold him, one beautifully ruddy cock to suck. 

The two barbells towards the top tickled the back of his throat as he bobbed down, hands braced placidly on Cas’ thighs and eyes still open watching up the curve of Cas’ body at the way the pink of his mouth opened and his chest fluttered with a hitched breath. 

Sam’s cock was taking an interest, feeling raw and sore still from pounding the both of them stupid last night. Legs dangling off the edge of the bed, Sam lowered his hips to rut against the sheets while he sucked Cas’ cock the way a morning blowie should be - sleepy and sun warmed and lingering with the pleasant tendrils of dissipating dreams. 

-

Padding quietly down the long hallway from the bedroom to the open kitchen, cream colored carpet soft and lush under bare feet, Sam paused at the open door to the private gym that Dean had. He was in loose shorts and a tank top that clung to the ridges and angles of his lean frame. Sweat darkened the line of his spine, glistened on red-flushed cheeks. God, he was way too pretty. 

Some mornings, when Sam stayed over every now and then, he liked to join in Dean’s morning exercise. The condo building had a gym on the ground floor, an indoor pool, an underground parking deck, a day care center, restaurants and shops. It was like it’s own little world. But Dean still had his private work out stuff, a weight machine and a treadmill and more recently - bafflingly - a set of kettlbells. Sam was more of a calisthenics and park-trail-jogging kind of guy, but he liked spending the time with Dean.

Or with Cas, sucking dick. That was kind of a workout, right. 

Sam was still half hard, he’d gotten Cas off and was trying to decide between getting a bj in return or just pinning Cas down with his weight and riding the sweaty crease of his hip to completion while kissing his stupid giggly mouth, but Cas had gotten an important phone call, and hey, the guy had a job too. 

Sam had never seen Cas in his work uniform before, though, - other than a blurry text photo - and it was kind of adorable. 

Triumphantly emerging from the sparse fridge with a half carton of eggs, in the shiny chrome and granite kitchen, Sam broke into a wide smile when Cas came out from the shower with damp hair mussed all over the place, khaki utility shorts, and a moss green polo t-shirt that declared ‘Cleveland Metroparks Zoo’ over the breast pocket. 

“Oh my god.”

Was the first thing out of Sam’s mouth, like an idiot.

Cas grinned at him and leaned against the counter island. “I know, it’s very flattering.”

“It’s kind of adorable,” Sam told him. Holding the eggs aloft, he asked, “Eggs?”

Cas looked at his phone and frowned, genuinely upset to cut the morning short. “I really gotta go in early, is there anything for toast?”

That was when Dean strode between, towel slung across his shoulders. He stopped in the middle of the kitchen reaching for the blender and did a double take at Cas. 

“What are you wearing?”

“My work uniform,” Cas replied. 

Sam shuffled sideways to the stove to find a skillet. 

Dean squinted at Cas, “You work at the zoo?”

“Yes.” Cas replied distractedly as he scrolled through a message on his phone and pocketed it.

Dean was slicing vegetables and scooping powders into the blender, his back to them. “What, do you like, clean cages or something.”

Cas’ mouth set in a hard line and Sam didn’t like the turn this morning was taking. 

“Habitats, the animals live in habitats, not cages. And no, I’m a vet. One of the red pandas is pregnant and her labor is overdue, I’ll be doing a cesarean today and I want to spend some extra time with her.”

“Oh my god really, you’re delivering babies?” Sam asked, egg carton forgotten on the counter. 

Cas hadn’t mentioned babies. 

At the same time, Dean huffed and jabbed a button on the blender, loud whir drowning conversation until the green mess inside it smoothed out and he pulled a large glass from the cupboard. “Don’t you have to have a degree for that?”

Jesus, he was really way too tightly wound from work. 

Cas shrugged, “Yeah, I have my BA in biology and I finished my Veterinary Medicine degree, but that’s the second time around. The first time I went to college I double majored with a BA in Business and a BA in Religious studies. I graduated summa cum laud too, both times. Do you want to see my credentials?”

Sam shifted from one foot to another, “Uh, hey Dean do you have any toast?”

Dean rolled his eyes and drank his health shake. 

“I gotta head out,” Cas leaned into Sam’s space and kissed him on the mouth, “Thanks for letting me stay over,” he shot to Dean before making his own way to the door. 

Sam trailed after him, calling a goodbye down the hall before standing at the open transition from the wood foyer to tiled kitchen and crossing his arms over his chest. “Dean you are such a judgy bitch sometimes.”

Cleaning his glass and blender and placing them back exactly where they had been, Dean sighed heavily and squared his shoulders. “Whatever. I gotta go into the office today, Sam, you’ll have to take your puppy dog eyes somewhere else.”

It was a Sunday. Dean had spent all Saturday at the office too. Sam rolled his eyes back and grabbed his wallet, shoved his feet in his shoes, and left. The sheets were still rumpled and dirty on the bed. 

-

Zoo hours on Sunday were from ten a.m. to six p.m. It was sunny and cheerful out, cotton ball clouds drifting across the sky without a threat of rain, and Sam hadn’t been to the zoo since a school field trip in middle school. That was kind of a shame, he decided, because zoos were awesome. 

It wasn’t like he even expected to see Cas there; Sam didn’t want to interrupt his work. But Sam didn’t have plans and he didn’t work overtime - he had a simple desk job that came with very low expectations, and he enjoyed that thank you very much. Besides, zoo admission was only ten dollars, and they had a special exhibit on butterflies right now. Which was super cool. 

He kind of felt a little strange, in hole-ridden jeans and a t-shirt from yesterday turned inside out, with a big lemonade in one hand and a zoo brochure in the other, towering over gaggles of children scampering around the zoo trailed by harried adult supervision. He caught a few sidelong looks, but he shrugged it off and smiled easy and hunched his shoulders in the way that made him look just a little smaller. 

His favorite so far was the ostriches. They looked like giant french feather dusters but those suckers could run like hell. From the little educational placard at the front of their habitat, Sam learned that their legs were powerful enough to kill predators with a single kick. Huh. They still reminded him of feather dusters. 

Wandering through the neat aquarium area where you could pass through a glass tunnel and watch all the fish through the glass, Sam scuffed his feet against the linoleum floor and leaned against the glass. It would smudge. But there was already a wide line of little handprints at about the height of Sam’s knees. 

Dean was kind of a jackass sometimes. 

Sam - sometimes, if there was a lull in work and the potential of a store room rough and tumble - kind of liked when Dean was all Scowly McSerious. It could be hot. The no nonsense puffed out chest alpha-male kind of attitude that made him great at what he did for work. But then, Sam also liked the quiet, softer moments when he could knead the tension out of Dean’s muscles and fuck the constantly whirring cogs of his brain into stillness for a moment. He was still working on parsing out Dean’s attitudes and what they meant and what he needed, whether it was space or Sam wheedling him or something he hadn’t figured out yet. Dean was… difficult. Sometimes, it was like they spoke different languages. 

Cas was easy to be around. There was something gentle and warm that seemed to come off him and wrap around you. He still had a little of that newness that excited Sam. But there were layers peeling back and things for Sam to see that he wasn’t too sure about prodding. You couldn’t see it if you glanced at the surface, but sometimes, it was like Cas tried too hard. To be likable, to be relaxed, to be easy. There was something about him that seemed to need reassurance, there were hard edges here and there and parts that bristled at Dean’s occasional stern authority. 

The two of them ratcheted up the tension and a lot of times that translated into fucking crazy hot furniture destroying sex. 

But not always. 

Finding his thoughts too morose in the wavering dim light of the aquarium that was cold and stale with air conditioning, Sam strolled back outside into the heat and sun and headed for the primate area. Monkeys were funny. Through the bustle and crowd, he found his way to a small amphitheater where a group of kids in uniforms from some private school were watching a zoo keeper give a presentation with a chimpanzee. 

Sam beamed at the familiar voice and the bright smile of Cas, feeling a little ball of warm gooey something melting in his chest to witness another side of Cas playing out. He was excited and kind and patient to answer questions and lively and fuck, Sam really liked him. Maybe big ‘L’, it was kind of early for that though wasn’t it. Sam fell easy though, and he fell hard. 

Cas found him in the crowd and caught his eye soon enough; Sam was hard to miss. He got a wide grin, the kind that crinkled the crows feet around Cas’ bright eyes, as Cas continued his presentation. Sam decided to sit on one of the ‘hewn-log’ benches in the very back that was unoccupied and watch. 

-

The sun filtered through an arbor over the small stage area at the front of the amphitheater, shade slanting out over the semi-circle benches that were made to look like logs but felt like fiberglass. The noisy din of crowds was dying out a little as six o’clock came closer. Cas sat hunched over a pb&j sandwich next to Sam, taking his dinner break. He was still going to be working for a few hours after close, but he made a little sliver of time for Sam. 

“Do you want to see the red panda babies?”

Spoken around a sticky mouthful of peanut butter, it came out slurred, but Cas was swiping his hands over his shorts and holy shit could he really take Sam back to see them? Apparently, Cas was a mind reader, because he corrected before Sam could trip over his own words, “Photos, on my phone, here.”

“Oh, yeah man, definitely,” Sam nodded along enthusiastically. “I didn’t know this zoo has pandas. Isn’t that super rare for them to have babies, like, in captivity.”

Cas’ eyes crinkled, a patch of sun shifting over his face as he swiped his phone on. “Those are giant pandas, and no we don’t have any giant pandas. These are lesser pandas, but they are no less cute.”

Curving towards Sam, shoulders bumping, Cas showed off a few photos with the flick of his finger. The little bundles of fur looked like a cross between a raccoon and a panda. Kind of. There were photos of them cleaned and swaddled in towels and put in plastic bins to be weighed and, “Holy shit they are so cute.”

Cas laughed, bright and clear, showing off photos of the mother before the surgery with a great round belly and of other red pandas in their habitat. “Very much so. They’re incredibly clever too.”

As Cas continued cycling through photos of some of the animals he worked with - after the pandas there was an adorable otter sedated with a little white cast on one leg - Sam found his attention drifting away from the phone to watch Cas instead, talking animatedly about his work and god Sam was so far gone on him because somehow Cas was even cuter than baby pandas. 

-

It was one a.m. on a Friday night, or technically a Saturday morning, and Sam couldn’t remember if he’d ordered any food but it was damn convenient for it to show up, because he was a little sluggish and really high and he always got a little stupid after a good deep dicking, so the hard knock on his apartment door was welcome. 

He wrapped a blanket around his waist as he stumbled out of bed, leaving Cas sprawled and fascinated with a handheld DS game that Sam had. 

“When’d you order food?” Sam half asked. 

He could of sworn Cas mumbled “I didn’t,” but by then Sam had the door opened and Dean was there looking a little rumpled and a lot tired and Sam pulled him into a big hug automatically. 

“Hey, man. Feel like I haven’t seen you much lately. Miss you.”

Dean tensed for a second before kicking the door shut behind him and returning the hug, squeezing tight and holding it for a beat. “Sorry, Sam. You know how busy I’ve been at work.”

Sam nodded into the crook of his shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Figured you’d probably sleep on the office couch tonight anyway.”

Slapping him on the back, Dean nudged him away, slid shoes off at the door. “Contract’s a done deal, we’re over the courtship phase now, I can ease off a bit.”

Sam nodded and patted Dean’s stubble rough cheek and let the blanket slip to the floor because, hey, it wasn’t food after all, it was Dean. But, Sam wouldn’t mind eating Dean either. He could think of a few ways to eat Dean.

“Come on, man, come in, help yourself to, whatever.”

Trailing back through the apartment, Sam stumbled into bed with Cas, who set the game down on the night stand and curled an arm around his shoulder, reaching out with the other hand to beckon Dean in. They watched him strip down, fold his suit neatly, set it on the dresser. Broad freckled shoulders and the curve of his spine down to … where he left his boxers on. 

Sam almost pouted. Warm and sluggish pressed between two bodies as Dean crawled in on his other side from Cas. Dean’s whole body seemed to sigh as it sagged over Sam, tired, head pillowed on his lap and Cas’ arm crossing over to push through Dean’s hair. It had been a long few weeks. 

Snuggling down under the sheets, Cas re-situating behind him, Sam huffed and stretched one way, then another. Feet tangled, a few pointy elbows, the unavoidable wet spot right where he settled his hip, Sam eventually found himself on his side facing Dean, one arm stretched under Dean’s head, and the heat of Cas’ body pressed behind him from shoulder to thighs. 

“Hey.”

Dean’s voice was soft and tired. Cas slid an arm over Sam’s side and curled his fingers against Dean’s shoulder. Sam liked being squished between them. 

“Hey.”

Blinking slowly, Sam tilted his face closer and kissed the tip of Dean’s nose. Cas was rubbing his forehead between Sam’s shoulder blades, bare skin to skin and the rhythm of his chest pushing out as he breathed soothing Sam. 

“H’lo.”

It was more of a groan coming out of Cas, a big yawn puffed warmly against Sam’s back. 

There were several things Sam wanted. He still had a wicked craving for pizza, or anything high calorie and bread-heavy, really. His stomach was very in favor of this. He wanted to roll Dean onto his back, push between his legs, fuck all the ache of questions Sam tried very hard not to ask in the past few weeks away, reassure himself in the welcome of Dean’s body. He wanted to turn his back and curl around Cas and kiss the smoke-rich indulgence of his mouth and let Dean decide if he wanted to shuffle closer. 

Sam just wanted to be wanted.

Then Dean let his eyes droop shut and he tucked his arms close to his chest as he pressed closer to Sam, nudging under his chin and insinuating thoroughly into his space, body going lax. And Cas caged Sam in somehow further, pushing a foot between his legs to hook around Dean’s ankle. And everything was warm and soft and hazy, all the edges bleeding together, indistinct. 

It had been a long few weeks. Dean started snoring. Sam blinked heavily. He could hear the clack of Cas grinding his teeth. He’d probably forget in the morning, but Sam’s last thought as he drifted off was that he really should get Cas a mouth guard for the grinding. 

-

The floor to ceiling wall of mirrors that decorated the walk in closet of Dean’s bedroom would be really nice to have actually in the bedroom. Like, at the foot of his bed. Maybe above it. There was a lot of potential to this line of thought, Sam decided as he curled arms around Cas from behind to help fix the knot of his tie. 

“It’s been years since I’ve worn a suit,” Cas squinted at their reflection.

“Looks good on you,” Sam rumbled as he concentrated on the damn tie. 

Soothing his hands down the front of the button-down, Cas frowned just a little and Sam wasn’t really sure why. 

“I could buy my own suit.”

“But Dean bought it for you - and he got the measurements just right didn’t he - and he has reservations and you should just, enjoy it, Cas.”

Finally getting the tie right, Sam patted his shoulder and added, “It’s Dean’s way of saying sorry. He’s, kind of an emotionally constipated person.”

“Material things aren’t what matters,” Cas mumbled.

“I know. He knows too. It’s just. I don’t know, hard for him, ok. He gets busy and wrapped up in things and acts like an ass sometimes and when he realizes… this is, his way of saying sorry.”

There was a rap on the door frame as Dean leaned into the closet, “Hey, reservations in an hour, you guys almost ready in here?”

It was easy to stride over to him and loop an arm around his waist, kiss his stupid pretty mouth and enjoy the smile that spread across his face, instead of a distracted scowl. Dean’s mood had been much improved since he had time for things like sleeping and spending the weekend fucking his two boyfriends. There was still overtime at the tail-end of a newly contracted client, but it was easier to pull Dean away from his desk at lunch to get fucked against the cool tile wall of his executive bathroom. 

Sam’s mood had much improved as well.

Together, they took a cab to the restaurant because the parking downtown was awful and Dean didn’t trust a valet with his car. Sam had been to the swanky upscale restaurant ‘Crave’ with Dean a few times, and it was well out of his pay-grade but he didn’t mind being spoiled. Not by Dean, at least. 

Cas was stiff in his suit, but polite. 

It was one of those sort of places that put a lot of emphasis on the presentation of everything, very sleek and modern looking inside with charcoal grey walls and dim lighting, clear hanging glass pendants in eccentric shapes suspended above tables with high booths to give privacy. The best thing Sam could say about it, though, was that they didn’t sacrifice food quality or scrimp on the serving sizes. 

The quiet hum of other diners and the shushed bustling of servers barely broke through the bubble of their table, Dean perfectly at ease, Cas squinting at everything, Sam somewhere in between.

Drinks would help with that. 

Orders placed, two tumblers of whiskey on the table – one neat for Dean, on the rocks for Sam – and one pina colada with a pink umbrella later and still they sat in something of an awkward silence that Sam wanted to joke his way out of.

Instead, Cas, who had been more somber than usual since getting dressed at Dean’s place, perched his elbow on the starched white table cloth then sat his chin on his palm, leaning towards Dean.

“You know, you don’t have to say sorry by buying me things.”

Dean pursed his lips for a fraction of a second. “I’m not. I like doing things for you guys.”

“This would usually be where I say something cliché but heartfelt like ‘spending time with you is all I need’ but I feel like it’d miss it’s mark.”

Cas actually used air quotes with his fingers, before hunching back over the table. 

Dean scoffed. “That is stupidly cliché.” One shoulder lifting in a half shrug, he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck before realizing his nervous habit and reached for his whiskey – another nervous habit, but who’s keeping track. “But uh, yeah I get it.”

Conversation lulled as the sentiment hung in the air, and it meant different things to everyone at the table, really. Sam could live entirely on someone’s time and glut himself on their attention and he’d be happy, but he appreciated that Dean felt the need to make solid physical gestures, and he understood that Cas bristled at that sometimes. 

So Sam chipped in, “You can definitely bribe my affection with expensive food. Always.”

Hiding a smile behind the crystal rim of his glass, Dean mumbled, “That’s ‘cause you’re a bottomless pit.” Setting his glass down, he made an exaggerated noise, “Friggin’ seriously, you’re not a teenager anymore, how do you eat so much and not gain a pound? It’s just not natural.”

Cas took the opportunity to wink at Dean like co-conspirators, “I believe he has an excellent exercise regimen.”

Maybe Sam laughed too loud at that, but what brittle tension there was eased as Cas smiled and instigated a game of footsy underneath the table between all three of them that escalated into a rowdy game of who could shove who’s foot in who’s crotch the fastest when the server arrived again with dinner. Cas was suitably impressed with the risotto, and Sam recognized the fond look Dean had when he felt that things had been set back to right. 

-

Cas had a habit of leaving pieces of himself wherever he went. 

There had been more than one occasion that Sam had found not-his clothes doing a sweep of the apartment to gather laundry. Dean never forgot his clothes at Sam’s - although one time a silk tie was left behind still knotted around a slat of the headboard. Cas had seemed surprised, at first, when his lost clothes were returned to him by Sam, cleaned and folded. 

There was a blue swirled glass bowl that Sam definitely knew belonged to Cas which had somehow found a new home on the shelf above the TV in Sam’s living room. Even over at Dean’s place, Sam would unearth things that belonged to Cas - a dog eared copy of the Tao te Ching, socks with pink kittens on them. Even things that made absolutely no sense for Cas to be carrying, much less to be losing, like his silverware. Sam had been confused to find silverware he had no recollection of owning in his sink, but the next time he was at Cas’ he recognized the style. 

It had stopped being strange, and Sam made it a habit to round up Cas things to return, which always earned him a pleased smile and a kiss. 

He had meant to return the fleshlight that he’d found rolled underneath his bed, which Sam had disinfected in boiled water and then thoroughly cleaned. It sat in his kitchen strainer for a few days. Sam had vague recollections of Cas using it on him, but he couldn’t understand why Cas owned a fleshlight that was shaped like a foot, or why that sort of thing even existed. 

It felt amazing though, despite the fact that it made Sam giggle during foreplay, the bumpy ridges on the inside a novel stimulation. 

Ok, maybe Sam had cleaned it, masturbated with it while fantasizing about Cas and Dean both nestled between his thighs, then cleaned it again. 

Now, though, he was using it on Cas because when they stumbled drunkenly through his kitchen Sam had grabbed it purely for the look of horrified curiosity on Dean’s face. 

Dean should know better by now.

They were at Sam’s because it was the closest to the restaurant and they could walk. Technically, they’d walked to a bar that was halfway between ‘Crave’ and his apartment. A dive Sam’d been to a few times, with cheap drink specials and crude graffiti layered on the bathroom walls, where the three of them had ended up with their shirt sleeves rolled and ties wrapped around their foreheads like ninja headbands. 

Dinner was good. Dinner was really good, especially after Sam and Cas had teamed up against Dean, each of them kicking off a shoe and sliding their feet into Dean’s lap to torture him all throughout dinner. Keeping him hard and blushing. 

The foot shaped fleshlight seemed especially funny now. 

Only, Sam was using it on Cas while Dean’s face was buried between his legs. Sam, stretched out on his side with an arm curled under Cas’ head, had chosen the position strategically because he could swallow down all the breathy gasps and desperate groans Cas was making as Sam fucked the toy down on his dick and Dean ate his ass out with all the enthusiasm of a dog with a peanut butter kong toy. 

Dean looked good down there. Face flushed red and hair spiked up with sweat. Shit, he was still wearing his tie around his forehead and looking unfairly goddam attractive every time he came up for air, eyes unfocused and mouth shining slick. 

Nuzzling against the side of Cas’ face, hand lazily holding the fleshlight as he let Cas fuck up into it, Sam nibbled on his ear. “D’you want Dean to fuck you? Or me? Both of us?”

Sam wanted to give Cas what he wanted. Dean rubbed his scruff along the inside of a tan thigh and dived back down, letting them decide, wet-suck noises making Sam’s cock jerk where he rubbed against Cas’ hip.

“Unh, I, oooh yeaaaah….”

Was all that Cas really had to add to the conversation. 

As Sam leaned towards the nightstand and stretched out, the sag in the middle of his mattress was familiar and he remembered that he was supposed to figure out a way to reinforce that this weekend. Or just put his bed on the floor. The sheets were dirty and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d changed them but it was his place and call him gross, Sam really enjoyed the sweaty-funk-murky smell the three of them left behind. 

Finding the lube, Sam picked up a condom too and threw it at Dean’s forehead before turning back to sucking on Cas’ pretty mouth, scruff grown out long enough to be called a beard at this point and it was all messy from Sam rubbing cheeks with him. 

Dean reared up, mattress squeaking, and frowned at the condom. 

Sliding a hand down Cas’ thigh, Dean worried at the corner of the foil pack with a thumb. “Wanna feel you…”

With the arm that wasn’t pinned by Sam, Cas reached up for Dean, snagging a wrist and tugging him down. “Make it messy.”

Swaying drunk, Dean kissed Cas’ belly and Sam fiddled with the lube, not bothering to pass it over, just smearing some on Dean’s hand. The fleshlight was lost in the jostling as Cas pushed up and slung a leg over Sam’s waist, straddling him, pressed down warm and comfortable into the bed. Dean kneed in between Sam’s legs, spreading them and making room for himself, and Sam was a little fuzzy minded, unclear on who was getting fucked here until Cas collapsed on his chest with a stuttering sigh and Dean started fucking into him, balls crushing against Sam’s and Sam’s cock was trapped between his belly and Cas and the two of them on top was squeezing the air out of his lungs but he would happily suffocate beneath them. 

Twisting his fingers into messy soft hair, Sam guided Cas’ head up to get more of those pliant-mouthed kisses as Cas licked back distractedly and mostly let Sam tongue-fuck him while Dean reamed his ass. Every time the barbells on the underside of Cas’ dick rubbed a hard line up Sam’s dick - jostling, missing the mark mostly - every time Cas rutted against him just right it shiver-burrowed deeper into his gut. Sloppy seconds were definitely on the table, but Sam found himself suddenly and sweetly overtaken as the giddy crush of their bodies weighing him down had him tumbling over the edge. 

He really should change the sheets in the morning. 

Cas snuggled like a cat on top of him, only curling tighter and closer after Dean had pulled out. Lazy fingers tracing down the curve of Cas’ strong back, Sam dipped along the firm swell of his ass and stroked through the come-sweat-lube mess between his legs, fingertips dragging along the hot relaxed muscle of his rim and even secondhand Sam loved feeling the wet-drip Dean had left. 

Dean, who was currently and noisily in the bathroom down the hall gargling mouth wash. 

Slurring a little, Sam shouted, “Dude, come to bed.”

Hips rolling in tiny twitches, Cas licked at the sweat on Sam’s chest. 

“Stay for breakfast tomorrow?” Sam asked, the sentence trailing off with a yawn.

“Mm-hm.”

Heaving Cas up and rolling to the side, Sam nudged Cas into the little spoon position on the edge of the bed. Back cold and sheets down in invitation, he had only a minute to wait until the bed dipped and creaked with Dean crawling in, arm curling over Sam’s waist and reaching out to sling onto Cas’ hip.

Mumbling, Dean kissed the back of Sam’s neck. “Better make me waffles.”

Sweaty, drunk and sex-high, Sam grinned ear to ear as he wiggled his ass back against Dean’s crotch. “I can do that.”


End file.
